


New Year Resolution

by RavenZaphara



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, GET IT, Gen, M/M, Pain, Reader works for grillby at the bar, Sans and Reader were in a relationship but he done fucked up, Stand-alone oneshot, as in resolution to a conflict?, hahah i hate myself, happy new year, not related to soul searcher or any aus of mine, reader's gender is never outright mentioned, sans has depression, the title is a pun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9163729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara
Summary: He'd told you the biggest lie he could manage, to drive you away. He couldn't handle it, but he couldn't begin to apologize to you. What would he say?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write things like this, but i was inspired. A painful fic inspired by a painful year.

Today would have been better with you.

It was something he fell asleep thinking, even though he was telling himself not to. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how he’d messed up, how he’d made a huge mistake and he’d never ever get to fix it.

He’d been putting on a brave face all month, for Papyrus, but lately Papyrus was out with his human friends, and Sans… well, he didn’t feel like getting out. And it wasn’t just the laziness, though that was heightened indefinitely by his depression over this.

On some level, he thought you might understand why he did it, but that didn’t make him feel better. Christmas had passed and he was sitting here, staring at the tv in his boxers and slippers, shoveling cheesepuffs into his face. One went in the wrong hole, and he just let it sit in his nasal cavity. Why bother it?

His phone rang and he hardly moved. He ignored it, but the caller just called back. He was tempted to see how many times in a row they would call, but he was tired. He wanted to mope in peace, so he picked the phone up, expecting his brother’s loud, somewhat abrasive voice to throttle him.

“Sans?”

His entire being lurched.

“Hey, uh… listen, Papyrus talked to me and we need to talk. Okay? Can you come out to the bar tonight?”

“gonna be too slammed tonight to care about me, kid. new year’s eve, itn’t it?”

“Look, beggars can’t be choosers. You want a chance to make this right, you’ll come. If not, I’ll block your number tonight and start the new year fresh.”

Ouch.

“i’ll be there.” He grumbled, but you’d already hung up.

It would be nice, he admitted to himself. He’d made himself scarce at Grillby’s when he’d dumped you, since you’d started working there. He missed it-- almost as much as he missed you.

He looked at the clock and cringed. _time to get up._ He told himself, but still struggled to make himself do so. He wanted to see you, despite the dread, and he’d do just about anything to make this right.

 _Could_ he even make this right, though?

He sighed and went about scrubbing the stench of sweat off of himself with a damp rag before shoving himself into a fresh change of still-slouchy clothes. Dressing up would just make him look desperate, wouldn’t it? Fuck, who was he kidding? He _was_ desperate.

Still, he was already dressed, and he knew clothing wouldn’t be what impressed you.

He left a note for Papyrus and took a deep breath. It wasn’t necessary, but it calmed his nerves enough that he could focus on getting to Grillby’s.

The bar was noisy and full, laughter and debauchery all around. Sans heard you before he saw you, and he felt like he was inside out-- or perhaps, more accurately to him, he felt like every square inch of him was on fire from sensitivity and the slightest touch would cause immeasurable pain. You were laughing-- and when you saw you, he noticed how the corners of your eyes creased, how your smile was genuine. You were beautiful, magnificent.

Your eyes passed over him and then darted back and your expression froze into a mockery of what it was. Anyone who didn’t know you wouldn’t see how tight your smile was, how blank your eyes were. Sans knew though, and looked away, disgusted with himself.

You turned back to the patrons who were laughing with you. Some of them were humans, Sans noted, and was happy for Grillby, and for you.

You approached, and you looked sheepish. “Sans.” He looked up so hopefully, and caught a glimpse of orange. “You… um.” You gestured awkwardly to your own nose.

“fuck.” he yanked the cheesepuff out of his nasal cavity and shoved it in his coat pocket, knowing he was blushing intensely.

“Go sit down, I’ll be on break in a few.”

Sans did as you said and sat down at the bar. He looked up at Grillby, who didn’t seem to be very happy. Sans doubted it was about his unpaid tab, though that didn’t help his case.

“Grillbz, hey…” He didn’t have a chance to go on. Grillby set down a bottle of ketchup and an order of fries, exactly what he would have ordered.

“Save the apologies for them.” He gestured to you, and he looked again, saw you laughing with Lesser Dog and Doggo.

“will it be enough?” He asked himself, but Grillby crackled in response. Sans felt his metaphoric heart sink.

“You can have the back room to yourselves after you’re done eating.”

“‘m not hungry.”

“They said to make sure you eat. So eat the fries. No less than half.”

Hope surged in him briefly. Was it because you were concerned he was starving himself? Had Papyrus said that?

He realized it might be to make sure he was at full strength so you could slap the shit of him.

He smiled bitterly and began eating the fries, not touching the ketchup. Grillby nodded in approval and you and he exchanged some signal. Sans was still there, still eating. Your heart felt lighter knowing he wasn’t going to run from this again.

Maybe you were more important than he had tried to make you believe, after all.

Your mouth quirked into a bitter smile, and you excused yourself from the bargoers, heading into the back room without sparing another glance at the skeleton whose eyes followed your every move.

“Don’t fuck this up, Sans.” Grillby warned. “Or I’ll beat you myself.”

“i’d deserve it.” He admitted, gesturing to the fries. “did i eat enough to be excused?”

“Go.” Grillby said, taking the remainder and putting them aside so he could clean off the bar where he’d sat. Sans nervously shuffled into the back room, waiting for anything. He half expected you to smack him, for you to yell at him-- the back room was pretty walled up, since grillby wanted to keep the flame aspect to the kitchen and out of the bar. Anything you’d choose to do wouldn’t be seen or heard outside of this room.

He didn’t expect to find you standing there stoically, back straight, shoulders tense, waiting with an expression that told him that you’d been crying as much as he had.

God, but you were an amazing actor. He wanted to just reach out to you like he once could. He wanted you to melt in his arms like you used to. He wanted to smell the shampoo you always used, wanted to feel the warmth of you like a blanket. He couldn’t sleep anymore without you there.

What could he say though? What would explain it, make up for it? What apology could he possibly offer to make you not quiver as if expecting him to do it all again.

You were so brave. But that had never been his suit.

“i know sorry won’t make anything better. don’t even think an explanation would make you feel better about anything… i… don’t know what to say.”

“Anything, Sans. Just quit running. Tell me the truth.”

“truth is i’m a moron.”

Your mouth quirked in irritation but you didn’t disagree this time.

You spoke when he made no move to. “Was any of it true?”

“no.” He said, and looked you in the eyes. There was still orange dust on his face from the cheese puff. You tried to ignore it as he spoke, but you were unsure if his words meant anything. You didn’t even know anymore if you wanted them to mean anything.

“i don’t want anyone else. I… don’t wanna see you with someone else, either. but... i know that, after how badly i fucked up… you might just want to move on.” He closed his sockets for a moment, but eventually met your eyes again. “i wouldn’t hold that against you. I won’t beg for another chance. Not because i don’t want one, but because you shouldn’t have to give me one.”

“Sans. Just say it.” You couldnt take this.

“i love you.”

You looked away and bit at your cheek.

“i’ve loved you for a while now, and had no idea how to say it. i was scared.”

He was scared. You looked at him then. Any time emotions were concerned, he would shrug them off with humor-- this was raw. This was the root of things. This was what sparked the argument.

“i trust you, i want to see you happy. even... if it’s not with me. please…”

“Why did you say it?”

“i was scared.” he repeated. “i don’t… know how to deal with these things seriously. but i’ll get help.”

“Good.” That was all you said. All you intended to say.

There were people making noise out in the bar, and you wondered if the countdown was beginning. You shouldn’t be able to hear it, so the fact that you did told you they were getting rowdy as hell.

“Sans, I want you to make a promise.”

He opened his mouth to say he doesn't do promises, but he stopped, looking at you. He was waiting.

“If it doesn’t work out, you can’t just give up.” Your voice was firm, your gaze firmer.

“i…” he caught himself in a lie and stopped short.

“You _weren’t_ okay. Paps was worried enough to come to _me_ about it.” You stepped closer and glared down at him. “Don’t fucking scare me like that ever again.”

Your eyes were always so intense, and the feeling of your hands on his shoulders, the warmth, made him realize how cold he’d been.

You were raw about this, but so was he. Did you forgive him? “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” He felt it bubbling up in his body, the roiling emotions he’d always suppressed.

“Stop.” You demanded and pulled him closer. “Just tell me this year will be different. Tell me this won’t happen again. Tell me you won’t make me regret opening up to you, again.”

The feeling of you against him was powerful. He wrapped his arms around you, and you softened a bit more. You didn’t melt, but you were here. You were still here, and he had another chance.

“i promise.” He answered.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, at least it ends on a hopeful note. Let's grab this year by the balls and grow.
> 
> Edit: I was half asleep when I wrote the notes and summary. So allow me to elaborate. Don't let this year be like the last. Regardless of anything that comes our way, we can get through this and continue to grow into new and better people. I can't wait to see who we will become this year.
> 
> Stay Determined!


End file.
